


These Thoughts Won't Leave Me

by Aeradae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeradae/pseuds/Aeradae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen finds himself in a very familiar and terrifying situation. Can Nesiriel get to him before the demon does?</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Thoughts Won't Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, ladies and gentlemen, this is not a fic for the faint of heart. It’s dark, it’s sad, it’s morbid, and you just may need tissues by the end. Maker’s knows that I needed them just writing it.
> 
> WARNING: This fic contains some seriously dark content, including death and suicidal thoughts. So please be wary if you decide to continue.
> 
> This fic takes place in an alternate universe and features Cullen and my Inquisitor Nesiriel Lavellan.
> 
> For those of you who love Cullen, I’m so, so, so, so sorry. You have been warned.

Cullen’s back was turned, his attention focused on the nearby enemy soldier who was attempting to decapitate him with a huge axe, when the mage cast their spell. He felt the surge of magic spring up around him, too quick for him to get out of the way. He gasped as he looked around him and saw he was surrounded by a dark, flickering barrier of some kind. He gingerly held his sword in front of him, pressing it into the edge of the barrier. A jolt of electricity shot out from its depths, travelling up through the sword and into his body. Cullen cried out, dropping his sword and falling to one knee, his hand cradled against his chest.

_No. Not again. Anything but this…_

He could see Nesiriel and Cassandra desperately fighting their way towards him. “Leave me! I’ll be alright!” he shouted to them, but his voice echoed hollowly back at him. Maybe nothing could leave the barrier.

 _They can’t hear you. No one can hear you. You’re all alone_. Cullen gasped as a deep voice whispered inside his head.

He shot to his feet, turning in a quick circle to find the source of the voice. “They will find a way to free me,” Cullen replied vehemently, instinctively holding his hands over his ears even though the voice was coming from within. 

The voice cackled in his mind. _Do you really believe that? They won’t make it to where you stand; my minions will see to that. And even if they manage to get pasts them? It will be a futile effort, as there is no way to break my barrier._

“Nesiriel and Cassandra will find a way. She always finds a way.”

 _Do you honestly think Cassandra will want to_ save _you? She’s silently disgusted with you and your decisions. She thinks you are_ weak _, a liability to her precious Inquisition. It was a mistake to make_ you _commander of their army. She is praying for_ any _excuse to find a replacement for you, and watches your every move with baited breath._

“You’re lying! She trusts in my decision and my abilities. She is working with me to help me recover.”

_Cassandra has already expressed her doubts to your precious Inquisitor. She thinks that you should be taking the lyrium, that you are nothing without it. A leader cannot succeed when they have such an obvious and debilitating weakness. The Inquisitor agrees with her. They happen to be in perfect agreement that a better leader must be found as soon as possible. They already have some candidates in mind._

“Don’t you dare bring _her_ into this!”

 _Oh, is_ she _a touchy subject for you? Inquisitor Nesiriel Lavellan. Your leader, your friend, your lover. Your_ beloved _. Just because she gives you pleasure, comforts you after your nightmares, and shares your bed does not mean she actually_ feels _anything for you. You are an_ escape _for her, something to keep her mind and body busy while she deals with her immense grief, with her issues. You know how many of_ those _she has. The only reason she chose you to take to her bed as opposed to any other man in the Inquisition is because you remind her of the lover that she_ lost _at the Conclave, and the small resemblance helps her to cope in some small way. You do happen to share a few traits with him, you know. The same colour of hair, like spun gold. The same stubborn streak…_

“Enough!” Cullen screamed, slamming his shield down with enough force to drive it deep into the earth.

Cullen could suddenly feel a presence of sorts in the barrier with him. His gaze flickered over the space, but he could see nothing. Then, a shadowed figure began to form in front of his eyes. At first it was an unrecognizable, vaguely human shape. But then small details began to make themselves visible. A long and slender body. Elegant pointed ears. Short, white hair. Emerald green eyes.

“No! That form will not fool me, demon!” he snarled, brandishing his sword as the creature cloaked in Nesiriel’s body sauntered towards him.

“But it’s me, Cullen,” the demon purred in Nesiriel’s soft voice.  

“You will not tempt me with her face! How dare you corrupt her so! I will not _submit_!”

The demon laughed, Nesiriel’s beautiful laugh ringing in Cullen’s ears. “Just give me a little time, my love. I know you better than you know yourself. I will break you down. Or better yet, you will break yourself down.”

He hadn’t done it in years, but Cullen dropped to his knees and bowed his head over his shield and began to recite from the Chant of Light:

_“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_

_I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm._

_I shall endure._

_What you have created, no one can tear asunder_.”[1]

 ---

“Cullen!” Nesiriel screamed as she watched the dark, swirling barrier spring up around him, obscuring him from view. _No_. _How could this have_ happened _? Where did that mage even come from?_ _I could have sworn that I dealt with all of the mages on the field…_

She dived to the side as a terror demon sprung up underneath her. She swung her staff up just in time to deflect a wickedly clawed hand from slicing open her throat. A burst of flame sent it reeling back to impale itself on the deadly steel of Cassandra’s sword.

“Cassandra!” she shouted across the battle field. “We have to help Cullen!”

Cassandra nodded in agreement and Nesiriel set off towards the commander, protecting each other; Cassandra with sword and shield and Nesiriel with barriers and a combination of fire, ice, and spirit magic. It was very slow going, as the enemies seemed intent on protecting whatever was going on within the barrier with their own lives.

Finally, she reached the perimeter of the barrier. She prodded it gently with her staff, pulling away as a burst of lightning shot out towards her. What was she thinking? Of course this wasn’t going to be that easy…

Considering herself fairly well-versed in barriers, Nesiriel was surprised at the level of complexity in the one keeping her from Cullen. She gently prodded at it with a small amount of spirit magic this time. It felt… dark, corrupted, and uncomfortably heavy against her mind. It was like nothing she had ever seen before.

She thrust her staff out before her, the words of a spell on her lips as she willed the barrier to fall before her. There was no hint that she had affected it in any way. She tried several other unveiling spells, each of which failed as quickly as the last.

She was distracted by a shout from Cassandra, warning her of approaching enemies. “You must hurry!” she shouted as she ran through an archer that ventured too close.

“I’m trying! I can’t just bash it down!” Nesiriel shouted back, incinerating a soldier that had been trying to creep up on Cassandra while her back was turned.

Nesiriel growled angrily as a more forceful attempt to lower the barrier ended unsuccessfully with her sprawled on her back several feet away. “You want to play rough? Then let’s play!” she roared as she surged to her feet, her fear for Cullen’s safety overriding her cautious inner voice, reaching deeply into her magic, glowing with the intensity of it.

The amount of magic she pulled from within herself would never have been possible without the addition of Lani’s magic. For once, she was grateful to shoulder the burden of it, as her own was not going to be sufficient to rescue Cullen. Nesiriel began searching for the weak point in the barrier. It appeared to be very well hidden.

 _Wait… there! That’s the weak spot!_ She poured a large portion of her energy into a combination of a disruption spell and a nullification spell, praying that it would be enough. She had to save Cullen. _Hold on, my love, I’m coming for you…_

\---

The demon cloaked in Nesiriel’s skin left him alone for a brief respite. Cullen trembled from head to toe, his body covered in a layer of sweat, his hand clenched so tightly on his sword hilt that the muscles were beginning to cramp. He was physically and mentally exhausted, but had not faltered once in his recitation of the chant:

_“Though all before me is shadow,_

_Yet shall the Maker be my guide._

_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond_

_For there is no darkness in the Maker’s Light_

_And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost—“_ [2]

“Cullen?!”

Cullen didn’t bother raising his head this time. “Leave me be,” he hissed wearily, pressing his forehead into the knuckle of his empty hand. He gritted his teeth and continued intoning the chant:

 _“Maker, though I am but one, I have called in your name--”_ [3]

“Cullen! Cullen, are you alright? What’s wrong, my love?” the voice drew closer, hovering just behind him.

“Get back, demon!” he snarled.

“Demon? What are you talking about? There are no more demons, we got rid of them. Cullen, it's me!”

“No more tricks, demon! I’m done playing your foul games. No. More.”

“Cullen! It’s me, it’s Nes. You’re safe now, I’ve removed the barrier–” A hand settled on his shoulder, and something inside Cullen snapped. Without even looking he shot to his feet with a roar, his body twisting around as his sword thrust behind him with all the strength he could muster. There was a startled gasp as his sword finally connected with something solid. He grinned in triumph, whipping his head around to finally get a glimpse of the demon who had been tormenting him for the Maker only knew how long. The grin quickly faded into a look of pure horror.

“No! Andraste preserve me! No, no, no, no, no.” Cullen’s hand dropped from his sword as he caught the falling body in his arms and carefully lowered it to the ground. His breath caught in his throat as he stared into a familiar pair of stunning green eyes. This was no demon… This… It couldn’t be… “Please, no, it can’t be… Nesiriel!”

Nesiriel stared up at him as she fought to pull air into her body, the sword having entered just under the left side of her rib cage and piercing her lung. Blood flowed over Cullen’s hands and pooled in his lap as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

“Commander, what have you done?!” Cassandra bellowed as she knelt beside the fallen Inquisitor, adding her hand to the wound, the blood draining from her face when she saw the extent of the wound.

“I, I didn’t mean to… Maker take me, I thought she was a demon! There was one in here before, one that took her form and tried to possess me! Nes, Nes, I’m so sorry!” Tears formed in Cullen’s eyes as he gently stroked Nesiriel’s cheek, tracing her vallaslin.

“C-Cullen,” she gasped, raising a hand to tangle in his fur collar.

“Shh, don’t try to speak now, my love.” Cullen pressed a soft kiss to her lips to try and silence her. She needed to save her strength. _She needs a healer… where’s Solas?_

“No, I… I need to… say… this.”

Cullen leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. His heart squeezed in agony as he failed to see Solas on the battle field. He was probably still back at the camp. _He’s not going to get here on time. Maker, how could this have happened?! What have I done…_ “What is it, my love?”

“I-I’m… sorry… couldn’t get to you… sooner.”

Cullen’s throat constricted with grief. “It’s okay, Nes. This isn’t your fault.”

“I… love you… Cullen. I always… will. My heart… Is… Yours.”

A sob burst from Cullen’s chest as Nesiriel shuddered out a final breath before going still. He buried his face in her slender neck, his tears falling into her hair. “No, please come back,” he pleaded brokenly. “I’m so sorry, my love. Please don’t leave me. I need you. Nes, I didn’t mean it, I swear. Maker take me, what have I done… Please don’t leave me here alone!”

 _I’m a monster. A terrible, evil creature. I… I killed her… I_ killed _her. How could I have done such a thing? I… I can’t do this, I can’t live without her… She’s my love, my heart, the other half of my soul. She… She is_ everything _._

Cullen was too enveloped in his own soul-wrenching grief to register the sound of Cassandra calling his name, warning him of approaching enemies. He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head from his lover’s cooling neck. The grief paralyzed his body, corrupted his mind, tainted his soul. As the first demon reached where he knelt, Cullen couldn’t even muster up the strength to look up. The pain of its wicked claws biting through armor and into flesh was dulled due to his mental anguish. He kissed Nesiriel’s forehead, her nose, her lips, as a second pair of claws made their way deeply into his gut. He did not fight it. He deserved this. _Nesiriel. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m coming to join you._

 _Or better yet, you will bring yourself down..._ The last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was the memory of Nesiriel’s brilliant green eyes staring emptily back at him. A final line of the Chant of Light fell from his lips:

_“Those who bring harm_

_Without provocation to the least of His children_

_Are hated and accursed by the Maker_.” [4]

 

[1] (Trials 1:10)

[2] (Trials 1:14)

[3] (Trials 5:1)

[4] (Transfigurations 1:1-5)


End file.
